


Galway Girl

by newtntommy



Category: IT (2017)
Genre: M/M, Smut, aged up losers, eddie has richie as a student teacher, student teacher richie, these kids need to talk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-26 12:03:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12556956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newtntommy/pseuds/newtntommy
Summary: Eddie and Richie go to a party, gets drunk, and end up hooking up the summer after senior year a week before they are supposed to all split up to go to their separate colleges.Eddie wakes up and freaks out and leaves, never saying goodbye to Richie or the other losers.He doesn't talk to Richie for two years, until he walks into his public speech class and finds that Richie was his student-teacher professor for the class.They have a lot to talk about.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> OH MY GOD WHAT DID I DO??? 
> 
> fuck this idea took over my mind and controlled me i swear oh my lord. please please tell me what you guys think. should i continue with this story? i really fucking love it but i wanna make sure other people like it ??? 
> 
> this is pretty short since i wanted to get the story out there and get opinions so i don't get sucked into it hahaha 
> 
> love youuuu

Sunlight through blinds on a window hits Eddie’s brown eyes, causing him to wince. He takes a deep breath, setting his head back on the pillow to see if he can fall asleep again. He pulls the red bedsheets upwards to his chest, forming into a ball to be lured back to sleep. 

His stomach flips and his eyes flash open. He looks down at the sheets and hitches a breath once he confirms his suspicions. 

He doesn’t have red sheets. He has blue.

Did he fall asleep somewhere else?

He closes his eyes, grabbing at his head when he feels an incredible headache forming. He groans at the pain, clutching at his stomach when he starts to grow nauseous. 

 

**“Try this one! It’s Smirnoff, and it’s black cherry flavor. You’ll love it.”**

 

Eddie’s stomach grumbles at the memory of black cherry, tasting it slightly on his taste buds. 

 

**Eddie takes a small, hesitant sip of the dark red drink. He scrunches his face at the high percentage of alcohol swirling in it. He means to put it down, but a warm hand stops him. It’s pushed back against his lips, forcing him to take another drink. The strong taste lights up his senses as he swallows, and his chest feels like it’s on fire.**

**The more he drank, the more loose his body became. He was soon laughing and giggling over every little thing. Hands roamed his waist, lightly pulling him closer to a hot body. He looks up when he feels the ticklish feeling of hair strands touching his face, and he giggles harder.**

**Richie.**

 

Eddie’s breathing grows shorter. The memory has pounding in his head, and he curses under his breath. When did he last see Richie? He remembers being forced to go to some party last night, but he doesn’t remember what happened. He knows it was a party thrown by graduated seniors, and it was the last night the losers were going to be together. They were all going their separate ways, so they decided to attend the party to celebrate. 

 

**“You’re so cute when you’re drunk.”**

 

Sweat forms on the back of Eddie’s neck, and his palms become clammy. 

 

**Music danced across the room, and both boys moved in rhythm to it. Eddie feels himself being pulled incredibly closer, grinning at the way Richie’s body was flushed against his. Their faces are inches apart. Eddie smells the liquor on Richie’s breath, and his sober mind yells at him at how gross it was. It only intoxicates him more, fogging his decision-making with incoherency.**

**Richie was laughing about something, and Eddie laughs with him. The room is spinning around him, and he fights for stability by wrapping his arms around Richie’s neck. He uses a finger to twirl a strand of Richie’s black hair. He tugs on it, giggling at the way Richie’s face turns red.**

**At point, Richie moves his foot and trips over one of Eddie’s. Eddie laughs, helping Richie stay on his feet. “You stupid idiot!” he tells him with no actual malice.**

**“I’m your stupid idiot!” Richie teases with fingers digging in Eddie’s sides.**

 

Eddie jolts up in the bed, giving a soft yelp when certain parts of his body ache. A tint of red creeps from his face to his neck and to his chest. His neck, his back, his upper legs, and his backside ache. A sharp pain flashes in the lower half of his body. 

He forgets how to breathe when he notices he wasn’t wearing any clothes.

 

**His back crashes against a wooden door. Mean, eager lips bite at his, and he parts his lips to let Richie in. He’s backed into the room and slammed against the door. He hears the soft click of a lock, and he moans when a hot hand presses against his groin. He bucks into the touch, putting his energy into the biting kiss that was now all teeth and tongue.  
“Richie…” Eddie moans into the taller boy’s mouth. He tugs hard on the black hair. He opens his eyes and watches in awe as Richie moans at the action. The dark, huge pupils and the look of pure enchantment and lust in Richie’s eyes has Eddie harder than he has ever been in his life. **

**Eddie mewls when he’s pulled by his hair to bring his head to the side, and he shivers when Richie’s warm breath hits his neck. Eddie bucks to gain friction, and he giggles when he’s suddenly picked up and shoved harder against the door. He’s so overwhelmed with Richie, that he can hardly breathe. Richie’s liquor-laced breath, his sharp cologne, and the significant smell of pure Richie floods his senses, and he closes his eyes.**

**“You’re a pretty motherfucker, aren’t you? Even your damn moans are angelic,” Richie comments hotly in Eddie’s ear. “Put your moans on a mixtape and listen to it around the other losers. What do you think? Your mom would ask what I’m listening to, and I’d tell her that her baby boy moans like a fucking siren.”**

**Eddie brings his head back against the door, wincing at the pain. “Only you, trashmouth, would bring up my fucking mother while grinding against me,” he grumbles. It comes out with a slur, though, and he kneads at Richie’s shoulders.**

**Richie grins against Eddie’s neck, licking along the salty skin. He nibbles on the exposed skin, going harder and smiling at the forming bruise. “Oh, baby, I’ll be doing way more than that.”**

**Before Eddie can respond, he’s pulled off the door, and he is soon falling onto a warm bed. Richie’s body covers him up like a blanket, and Eddie giggles into the kiss.**

 

Eddie’s head is spinning, and he feels his lungs closing. 

Shadows of hands climb along his body, and he can practically relive the memory of Richie’s finger skimming along his naked skin. Eddie looks to the left side of the bed, heart skipping a beat once he sees his discarded shirt on the floor. 

His fingers tremble as he glances down to find hickeys splattered on his chest. His fingers clench up, as if reliving the memory of-

 

**Eddie moans into the air, tugging hard on Richie’s curls every time his teeth dig a little too deep or harsh. He arches his back, biting his lip as Richie goes lower on his body.**

**It only takes a small glimpse for confirmation. One glimpse at several small red bruises on his inner thighs was all it takes.**

**“Taking my fingers so well, huh, Eds?”**

 

No. No, no, no. 

Eddie shivers at the recollection of the sound of their moans mixed together. He knows what his best friend sounds like in ecstasy. He knows the look on Richie’s face when he’s in mid-orgasm. He knows Richie’s nickname ‘trashmouth’ does not stray from the bedroom. 

 

**“You look so fucking good like this, you know that?” Richie moans between harsh breaths. Eddie’s face is as red as the sheets underneath, gripping hard on Richie’s back. He knows he’s probably leaving scratches on the other boy’s back, but Richie doesn’t seem to mind. It actually kind of drives him.**

**“You’re being so good for me.”**

**Eddie whimpers, wrapping his legs around Richie’s to presumably pull him closer, take him deeper. He knew the second he moved that he revealed something. He can hear the grin forming on Richie’s lips.**

**“Eds has a praise kink. Why am I surprised?”**

 

His best friend knew his kink before he even knew it. Fuck, his best friend made his kink come to life for the first time. 

His head hurt like never before, and his stomach was swirling and flipping around. His whole body trembles as he reminisces the memories from last night. He can still feel Richie’s hands holding tight around his waist, keeping him steady. He can hear the deep voice that helped push him over the edge. 

 

**“Are you going to be a good boy and come for me?”**

**Eddie is on autopilot when he answers, nodding enthusiastically. He yelps in pleasure when Richie angles his body and slams into a spot inside him that had him seeing stars.**

 

Richie fucking Tozier was the only person, besides him, that made him come. 

Eddie jumps when something moves in the bed, and he looks over to find Richie’s sleeping form quietly snoring away. His black hair was tousled, covering his eyes. Eddie looks at his lips, knowing those lips touched every inch of his body barely six hours ago. That mouth led him to the edge, forcing him to close his eyes and let out a loud scream in pleasure. 

Those hands touched him in places he’s never been touched by anyone else before, some places including himself. 

Eddie scrambles off the bed in fright, falling with a muffled cry at the impact on his backside. His eyes are fogged with tears as he puts his clothes back on. His face is red with humiliation. 

How could this happen? What will people think? What will his damn mother think? She’s going to never talk to him. She’s going to hate him. 

What will the losers think? 

“Fuck,” Eddie curses under his breath. He runs into the bathroom as quietly as he can, and he runs to a halt when he sees himself in the mirror. 

His whole appearance is disheveled. His hair a mess. His face is red as a tomato, and hickeys splattered along his neck to his upper chest that showed through the shirt. It was obvious what he had been doing. People are going to ask questions. 

His chest tightens, and he works to keep his breathing under control. He remembers hearing about numerous of kids being killed because of their sexuality. If they hear about him and Richie, who knows what they’ll do? 

Bill’s face flashes in his mind, and Eddie wants to cry. 

What if they hate him? What if they kick them out of the losers club? What if they never talk to him? 

The room is closing it on him, and he wishes he had his inhaler. He knows he doesn’t have asthma, but it comforted him and helped him breathe when needed.

He walks slowly to the doorframe, looking out at the bed. 

Richie is sleeping peacefully with his lips parted and hair ruffled. 

Eddie leans back against the post with his head in his hands. 

He cannot fucking believe he slept with Richie. How could he be so stupid? He just ruined himself. He ruined his whole life. Everyone is going to hate him. His life is in danger. His and Richie’s lives are in danger. He needs to get out of here. 

He can hardly breathe, and he looks back at Richie. 

Looking back, he can see their relationship getting closer and more...intimate. Their hugs got longer. Their jokes got more suggestive. They started to hang out by themselves without the others. Richie started coming over more to sleepover. Eddie can’t remember the last time the losers were together, and Richie wasn’t right next to him. He can’t remember the last time he didn’t run to Richie when he was scared. He can’t remember the last time he didn’t run to Richie when he needed comfort or someone to talk to. 

He should’ve seen this coming. He should’ve seen this coming, so he would have been able to stop it. 

With red cheeks and teary eyes, Eddie grabs his shoes and the rest of his clothes. He dashes out the door, dodging questions and worried looks. 

He runs home and finishes packing, never saying his goodbyes to the losers.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie sees Richie for the first time in two years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo this is sort of out of character? kinda? i would say so about richie a bit, but it's not too far off if this situation were to really happen.
> 
> Let me just warn you...this gets really damn angsty. richie and eddie are both assholes at first, but i promise it isn't always going to be like that. they're just going through some things hehe <3 
> 
> please comment your thoughts! i sincerely hope you guys like it. thank you so much for the comments on the first chapter. it really motivated me to keep writing :)

A loud static is the first thing Eddie hears on the first day of classes. 

Eddie glares at the bright red light of the numbers displaying seven am, which is followed by a low chuckle from the corner of the room. Eddie aims the bird at Stan, who straightens his belt in the loop of his shorts. Eddie knew Stan would be up before him, since Stan takes way longer than him to get ready for class. 

Eddie gets up with a sigh, clamoring over to the counter to grab a small bowl of cereal. “Which classes do you have today, again?” he asks with a tired voice. The ‘morning’ went with the bird. 

“Biology and physics today. What about you?” Stan answers with a comb through his curly hair.

“Public speech and organic chemistry. The two classes I was so excited for,” Eddie drones with a roll of his eyes. He finishes his cereal and slurps up the remaining milk. Stan winces at the sound, but doesn’t comment.

Eddie throws his plastic bowl away, glancing at the empty sink. “I’m so happy you transferred here. My last roommate probably didn’t know what dish soap even was,” Eddie remarks on his way to the closet to change clothes.

Stan doesn’t turn to meet his eyes, letting Eddie have his privacy. “Yeah, me too. I was getting irritated with my parents, and probably vice versa.” 

Eddie hums through his toothbrush, stuffing some medication in his fannypack. He didn’t take nearly as many pills as he used to. He now only keeps advil and other forms of acetaminophens. He also grabs his inhaler, just for safe-keeping. 

Going to a foreign city was pretty scary when he first got there. He didn’t know anyone, and he was far away from his mother. Well, far enough to where his mother wouldn’t come visiting him, or ask him to visit her. After what his mother did to him, he’s glad to be away from her. He didn’t feel so weak anymore. 

Though, without the other losers, he had felt incredibly lonely. Having the same group of friends his whole childhood meant that he wasn’t used to going out and meeting anyone. Sure, he talked to some classmates when he needed some help, but that was it. Nothing led to events or plans. He hadn’t liked his roommate, so they did nothing together besides maybe watching a movie from time to time. That didn’t count. 

So, he was overjoyed when he got a call from Stan, telling him that he was going to transfer to his college. Eddie immediately asked if he wanted to be roommates, and that had startled a laugh from the taller boy. 

Stan was an amazing roommate. He was great at keeping things organized, staying away from Eddie’s belongings, helping with the dishes and so forth, and even helping sometimes with his schooling. Stan understood his need for cleanliness and organization. Stan with his OCD, thrived on cleanliness, though, much more than Eddie. That led to many arguments, but Eddie always did end up relenting, and Stan always ended up apologizing. They were a good living duo, and Eddie couldn’t ask for a better roommate. 

“Wish we had coffee,” Eddie complains, rubbing at his eyelids to get rid of the fatigue. 

“Got that covered,” Stan waves off. 

“Where?” Eddie immediately asks, needing coffee more than he thought. He didn’t imagine he’d ever drink coffee, especially since his mother made him believe that it was basically poison. The first semester of college made him rethink that, and now he drinks coffee every morning. 

Stan glances at the door and shrugs. “In a minute,” he responds with some soreness. 

Eddie grabs his notebooks and binder, heading for the door. “Guess I’ll go without it- Oh!” 

Eddie opens the door and finds Bill standing there with a coffee tray in one hand, and his other hand up to knock. Eddie laughs, shaking his head fondly. 

Bill’s cheeks heat up, and he takes a step back with a smile. “Goodmorning, Ed-Eddie.” 

Eddie looks back to find Stan smirking in the doorframe, and Eddie clicks his tongue, grabbing the coffee cup with his name on it. Bill’s cheeks are redder as he looks over at Stan.

He pecks Bill on the cheek before leaving. “See you, lovebirds, later!” 

“Get your own boyfriend, idiot!” 

Eddie grins devilishly as he walks across the parking lot, eyeing up the chemistry building. He turns around in time to see Stan kissing Bill on the lips, thanking him for the coffee. 

To say that he was shocked when he stumbled into his room after a late-night class and finding Bill and Stan making out on his bed would be a complete understatement.   
He never thought in his wildest dreams that Stan and Bill would get together. Yes, Stan has always been closest to Bill and vice versa, but that didn’t mean they would end up together. With the whole Beverly thing…Eddie would have safely assumed Bill was straight. Stan and Bill were just friends, who hung out a lot and were many times found standing right next to each other. 

It wasn’t safe entirely, of course. Bill and Stan had their dates at each other’s homes. In public, they didn’t hold hands, but their shoulders were glued to each other, so they pretty much kind of did. 

Seeing them interact as a couple had Eddie rethinking their relationship over the years. He supposes it wasn’t all that shocking now. They had a lot in common, they hung out more than the others, had the most sleepovers with each other, and Stan was always looking at Bill in a way that was more intimate than friendly. 

They were pretty close, but they weren’t the closest in the whole group. 

Eddie shakes his head, kicking that train of thought out. He can’t think of _him_ , or that night. 

He walks into his organic chemistry class and bites his lip, eyeing for an open seat. He sees one near the front and darts for it, throwing his things on the desk. 

Many people have told him how hard organic chemistry was, and he finds that is very much true when the class begins. By the end of the class, Eddie has filled up three pages front and back. He groans in his seat, realizing that he understood maybe around a third of it. 

He eyes the tutoring schedule before leaving, heading for the communication department. It’s across the street, so it takes him around twenty minutes to get there. 

He’s about to enter the building, but he catches sight on Bill, who is walking over to the psychology building. Bill thankfully sees him and waves him over. 

“How many psychology classes do you have to take for your English major?” Eddie asks when they’re within hearing distance. 

Bill laughs lightly, shrugging, “A lot, though, I d-do lov-ove psychology, so it do-oesn’t bother m-me.” 

“Can you read people yet?” Eddie jokes with a deep voice. “Can you separate the killers from the regulars?” 

Bill laughs harder this time. “Yo-You sound ju-just like…”

Eddie straightens up, “Who?” 

Bill clears his throat, cheeks and neck reddening. “Which class are you going to, doctor?” 

Eddie beams at the nickname, but falls short when he answers. “Public speech. I hate talking in front of strangers.” 

“That’s odd,” Bill says with a tilt. “You ne-never shu-shut up when He-Henry came to mess with u-us, and he’s wor-worse than a stranger.” 

“Henry was an ass, and I’m glad we don’t have to deal with him anymore,” Eddie remarks enthusiastically. His watch beeps, signaling that he needs to go. He waves at Bill. “Gotta go. See you later, Bill!” 

He hears a soft ‘bye’ behind him as he walks inside the building. He shuffles around other people, who seem to also be in a hurry to get to class. Eddie watches the numbers beside the doors, waiting for 175.

He finally finds it at the end of the hallway, and he waltzes into a fairly small classroom. The seats are almost all taken, and he takes one near the back. He sits with a sigh of relief. He really did not like publicly speaking. 

He takes out his organic chemistry notebook and scans over the information, trying to stitch things together and understand. He hums as he does so, only stopping when a bigger male student looks at him. 

He glimpses at his watch a little later, noticing that the professor was six minutes late. 

Wasn’t the rule something like ‘ten minutes late, and the class is cancelled?’

He jolts in his chair when the door suddenly opens. 

“About time,” Eddie mutters under his breath. He looks up to see what his professor looks like, and his whole world comes crashing down. 

It’s Richie.

It’s fucking Richie Tozier. 

It’s Richie, only slightly taller and lankier. His glasses are little less thick, his legs are longer, and his hair is longer. His cheekbones are more noticeable, and so were the freckles upon his cheeks. He wore a Hawaiian flannel over a simple blue shirt, and he wore blue khakis. He has brown leather bracelets around his thin wrists with a couple of rings. He still wore the same converse shoes, but he didn’t have long socks like he had used to. 

He was the same Richie, but his fashion sense was more…found like he was no longer searching for it. It was as if he found himself, confident in who he was.

God did he want nothing more than to just bolt right out of here, because this cannot be happening. Wasn’t there some rule about sleeping with your damn professor? Richie wasn’t a professor. What was he? A student-teacher? Professor’s assistant?

Was there a different rule for sleeping with your damn professor, and then fucking leaving the next morning - never talking to him again?

This cannot be happening. He has to leave. He has to run far away from here-

“Sorry, losers, got lost in your mom’s bedroom,” Richie inappropriately jokes. Everyone but Eddie laughs.

Richie hasn’t changed a damn bit.

Richie sets his bag down, and then sits down casually on the corner of his desk. Some people snicker at that. “I’m guessing all of you are here because it’s a prerequisite?” 

A few people nod and laugh saying, “Sure am.” 

“You mean you’re not here for little ole me? That’s a shame. Well, let’s see. Communications is designed to enhance the student’s ability to present public speeches confidently and competently. Also, designed to improve information literacy and critical thinking skills, blah blah blah…

“Anyway,” Richie drawls out, gaining a few laughs. He grabs a clipboard and puts it in his lap. “I’m just going to do roll call, and we’ll begin.” 

Oh no. 

Eddie shrinks back into his seat, wanting the floor to consume him. Richie may not have noticed him yet, but he soon will. His stomach churns and spins like mad, causing him to grab his medicine bottle with shaky fingers. 

Richie starts droning out the names, checking them off on the list each time. Eddie bites his lip, squirming in his seat as he gets closer to the K’s. 

“Hopes?” 

“Here.” 

“Jasper?” 

“Here.” 

Eddie closes his eyes. 

“Kaspbrak.” 

It comes out more as a statement than a question, and Eddie answers with quivering lips. “Here.” 

Richie clears his throat and moves down the list.

Eddie wants to vomit. Richie didn’t even look at him. 

Eddie’s heart sinks in, clutching at the memories of him and Richie. Memories of swimming in the quarry – Eddie pretending to drown Richie. Memories of friendly bickering. Memories of always being in close proximity wherever they went. Memories of movie nights where Eddie was in Richie’s arms. Memories of Pennywise getting closer and closer to them, and Eddie actually being okay with dying in Richie’s arms. 

Memories of kissing the taller male flashes in his mind, and the hair on his arms stand up. His eyes wander to Richie’s lips, heart skipping a beat at knowing exactly how those lips feels. How those lips kiss. 

How those lips formed the words, “Where’s Eddie?” the next morning. 

Eddie looks away from the boy at that. 

Richie finishes calling out the names, putting the clipboard down with a whack. He claps his hands together, “Alright! Who wants to explain a fun time where you had to give a speech?” 

The rest of the class is taken up by stories of when someone had to give a speech. It was captivating to Eddie how Richie was pretty good at giving advice. It reminds him of well Richie did in school, and it only makes him crawl farther into his seat. 

Richie has a few slides to show on the board, assigning everyone to look up a historically popular speech that changed the world. 

When the class was five minutes from ending, Richie stands up with a grin. 

“Anyone want to come up to the front and explain why communication is important?” Richie asks with an unsettling look in his eye. His voice was gravely and troubling, as if he wasn’t really waiting for answer because he already had one.

Eddie’s breath hitches.

Richie takes the clipboard and glances at the names, not even truly looking at it. “Kaspbrak, right? Will you come up here? You haven’t said anything all class! I think you should explain why communication is _very important_.” 

It was the first time Richie looked at him in two years, and the brown eyes he used to look at like moths to a light held nothing but a sense of conniving. 

A sense of challenge sparkled in Richie’s eyes, and Eddie remembers why they bickered a lot. He remembers why Richie annoyed him so much when they were kids.

This was different, though, cause Richie never looked at him like this. 

Eddie stands up as confidently as he can muster. “Okay.” 

He doesn’t break eye contact with the other male, but his step does falter and slow down. He hasn’t seen Richie in two years, and it was intimidating to see Richie up-close and personal now. 

He wants his Richie back. He despises this challenging, avenging Richie. 

_You can only blame yourself._

Richie leans back in his chair with nothing but a short smile on his lips. He wiggles his eyebrows, silently telling Eddie to get going. 

“Communication is very important,” Eddie introduces with a wince. He clears his throat. “Communication is a way of getting our messages across. It helps express your opinions to others, and it helps form relationships.” 

“Not communicating can break them, right?” 

Eddie glances at Richie with heated cheeks. He nods curtly. “Yeah, it can break them. On the contrary, though, communication can also break relationships too. Someone might not agree with your beliefs or opinions, and they will stop wanting to have anything to do with you.” 

Richie’s tight smile twitches. “Communication can help fix the problem.” 

“Not when neither party agrees with the other,” Eddie says, but he finds out too late that he hissed it out. “It is better to end the conflict before it even starts.” 

“That’s pretty cowardly, don’t you think, Kaspbrak?” 

Eddie clenches his fists. “You can’t always talk your way out of stuff. Sometimes you just have to know when to stop things-“ 

“Talking shit out is way more damn efficient,” Richie scowls. “And with a bigger chance of solving the problem.” 

“Sometimes there isn’t a solution!” Eddie snaps, turning to face Richie. 

The room is silent around them, and Eddie remembers that there are other people in the room. Richie’s face lacks emotion, but Eddie can tell he’s frustrated and hurt. “Richie…” 

Suddenly, Richie jumps up, landing on his heels with a wide smile. “YOWZA! That was intense. Join us next time on the Richie and Eddie show!” 

The class lets out a few small, uncomfortable laughs before they start filing out. Eddie stays in his spot, never taking his eyes off Richie. He watches as the other male shuffles through his bag, shoving things in without order. Eddie softly smiles.

Stan would have a heart attack.

He watches silently as Richie brings his bag on his shoulder, turning to leave the room. 

Eddie gawks, “Where the hell-“

Richie turns around, kneading at the strap of his bag. “Oh! M’ sorry, partna! Little ole’ me hav’ tuh get back to the stables! Long ride back, ya hear?” 

“That country accent was terrible, and you’re not going anywhere! We need to talk,” Eddie barks at the other male, glaring bullets into him. 

Richie drops his bag instantly, letting it fall with a slam on the tile floor. His face is still unreadable. “Well then, sweet pea! Let me tell ya something!” Richie exclaims as he walks back over to Eddie. 

Eddie stands his ground, even when Richie moves to where he stands barely an inch from him. His insides shrink at the half glare on Richie’s face. The expression is foreign. It’s so out of his element, and it makes Eddie want to cower away. 

“If you’re staying to ask for bonus points, then let me tell you I certainly do offer them. You’ll need them if you want to get into medical school. Not right now, though, cause my lap is still too warm from the last person who needed some!” Richie taunts with a wink. 

Eddie clenches his fist, anger consuming him. “You are not ruining my chances to get into medical school,” he retorts through his teeth. 

“Oh, so, you _are_ here for bonus points?” Richie teases. It wasn’t the same way Richie used to toy with him. This humor had an edge to it. An edge that made Eddie uncomfortable and angry.

Eddie’s palms are clammy, and he has a hard time breathing. Richie and him has had many arguments in the past, but Richie has never looked at him like this. The guilt eats at Eddie’s insides like rot, consuming his chest and lungs. 

Anger laces with the guilt, disbelieving that Richie would ever go so low and fuck with his grades, or embarrass him in front of the entire class. 

He needs to go. He needs to go and think this out – get his emotions straight. 

He turns his body to walk around Richie, “Fuck you. I would never-“ 

He doesn’t get far, because the next moment his back is pressed against a wall with Richie’s face inches from his own. Richie’s jaw is tense, and his eyebrows are furrowed as he studies Eddie’s face. Eddie’s shoulders go numb, and he goes to shove Richie’s hands off him.

“Richie-“

Eddie’s words are cut off by Richie bringing their lips together harshly. It turns into a biting kiss, less lip and more teeth and tongue. Eddie whimpers when his hands are lifted above his head, pinned down against the wall. A knee budges between his legs, and Eddie finds himself immobile. 

He’s too shocked at first to end whatever Richie is trying to do, but then he grunts, pushing against Richie to stop him. He hisses as his wrist bones hit the wall, and Eddie’s breathing fastens at the fact that Richie is not planning on letting him go. 

They should be fucking talking right now. They should be arguing and hashing this out. Eddie knows this won’t be ever be solved if they don’t talk about it, but his body is frozen. Richie touching him gives him whiplash, similar to jumping into ice cold water. 

Remembrance of that night comes back to haunt him. The tight hold around his wrists remind him of that night. The way Richie held him down, holding him down on the bed as he switches from whispering filth and sweet words into his ear. 

It has Eddie wanting, kissing back just as strong as Richie. The pent up loneliness finally devours his thinking, hitting him with a craving sensation now that he finally had Richie pressed against him again. 

It’s when Richie starts to kiss down his jaw to his neck that Eddie is pulled out of the fog. Richie’s touches are too tense, too…mean. He’s going to have bruising on his wrists and waist, where Richie’s hands are. Richie is getting his anger out, and Eddie doesn’t want it. He doesn’t want Richie expressing his anger on him. 

That’s not what their entire friendship/relationship had been about. Sure, they did quite a bit of arguing – some say they did nothing but that – but they never truly hated each other. They never truly wanted to put harm on the other.

His train of thought is diminished purely on the feeling of Richie tangling his fingers in his hair and pulling, forcing his head to tilt and expose the skin on his neck. Richie bites at his skin, and Eddie fidgets in his stance with a high moan. 

“Are you going to be a good boy for me, Eddie?” 

Eddie’s lips quiver, not knowing what to say. His skin flares up, body purring at the praise. A knee presses against his groin, and he automatically bucks his hips for the friction. The hand on his waist loosens to let him. 

It’s Richie that gets him near the edge. It’s his hot breath, his lips biting in his neck, his burning hands on his skin pinning him down, his fingers pulling on his hair, and his knee that he lets Eddie rut on. He’s not used to this. He’s only had one relationship since he started college, and that was an entire bust. 

He hasn’t had hands on him ever in his life, except for Richie’s, and now they’re back on him like they never left. 

It’s also Richie who sends him flying back. 

“You want to use me again, Eddie?” 

The words strike cold against his chest, causing him to close his eyes. His body doesn’t cooperate, chasing after the boiling pleasure in his stomach. His body gets the memo when Richie suddenly removes himself, no longer touching any bit of Eddie. 

His eyelids are scorching, containing the pent up tears forming. His whole body is red with embarrassment and guilt, and he shakes with the sudden loss. He works to steady himself against the wall to keep from falling on his ass. 

Eddie finally opens his eyes, looking at Richie again. A teardrop streams down his cheek. 

Richie is no longer angry, only looking at Eddie with empty eyes. His own cheeks were red, certainly from the moment before. His brown eyes dig into Eddie like knives, and Eddie has never seen Richie so sullen before. His fingers twitch to reach out and comfort Richie, wanting to redeem himself. He wants to take all the sadness and disappointment he caused Richie and give it to himself. 

Something flickers in Richie’s eyes, and a smile perks up. It’s not a true smile. 

“Hate to leave you high and dry like this, but madam, my life awaits!” Richie farewells, picking up his bag and heading for the door. 

Eddie’s heartbeat quickens, following Richie with his eyes. Another tear streams down his face. “I…I didn’t…” 

“Didn’t what?” Richie quips. “Didn’t leave me high and dry? Hot and bothered? Yeah, I came harder than I ever had in my life, but Eddie…” 

Eddie cowers into the wall, fighting from closing his eyes. He whimpers, body jumpy with nerves. His pants are too tight and uncomfortable. Richie is leaning over him with his hands on the wall on both sides of Eddie’s head. Their bodies are too close and too far apart, and Eddie’s hands open and shut, wanting to pull Richie closer.

“I didn’t mean it physically.” 

Richie is gone and out the door in seconds. Eddie jumps at the slam of the door. 

He slides down onto the floor, unable to hold himself anymore. 

He still feels Richie on him, kissing his neck and pinning him down. The face doesn’t match the faded touches. He hides his face in the cold floor, finishing himself off because there is no way he’ll be able to walk back to his dorm with his body so on edge. 

He cums with a sob, falling back onto the floor. He can’t close his eyes, knowing he’ll only see Richie’s angry, frustrated, and heartbroken face that will make him want to claw his eyes out.

His body is numb as he stands up, wincing at the uncomfortable feeling of soaked boxers. 

He grabs his belongings and shuffles out of the room, dashing to the door. He wants nothing more than to hide in his dorm and forget everything that happened. 

He skates to a halt when he notices Bill leaning against the building, surely waiting for him. Eddie cusses under his breath, looking himself over and knowing he looks like a huge mess. 

With his chin up, he walks out and over to Bill. Bill doesn’t look at him when he starts talking.

“Hey, Ed-Eddie, I saw Richie jus-just leave – wow, you look like sh-sh-shit!” Bill stutters with horror in his eyes. 

“Richie did this,” Eddie chokes out. Bill winces. “Richie fucking Tozier did this! He did this because he’s here. He’s my dipshit speech student-teacher! I thought I was never going to see him again – wait, why don’t you look surprised?” 

Bill clams up, staying silent surely on the fact that he talked, it would purely be stutters. 

It hits Eddie like a ton of bricks. “You knew.” 

“Ed-Ed-Eddie.” 

“You fucking knew, and you didn’t tell me!” Eddie screams. “Fuck you, Bill!” 

“Wa-wait!” 

Eddie ignores him, choosing to make a dash to his dorm. He dodges people around him, barely skimming past a group of boys, who yell at him. His vision is foggy, and his coordination is limited as he runs. His chest is going to explode. He can’t breathe. He can hear and feel his heart beat against his ribs. 

Eddie storms into his dorm, causing Stan to jump up from his bed. Stan brings a hand to his chest. 

“You scared me, Eddie-“

“Richie is here,” Eddie claims shortly. His voice is shaking with tears, and he can’t see all of Stan’s face due to his state, but he catches on when Stan doesn’t respond. 

Eddie closes his eyes, flopping down onto his bed with his face in his hands. 

“What, did everyone fucking know except me?!” Eddie yells into his hands. 

“Richie just started at this college this semester. We thought he was going to be on the other side of the campus and didn’t think you guys would see one another,” Stan explains softly. He still stands near his own bed, and Eddie is grateful for that. 

“He didn’t like his professors I guess, so he transferred here,” Stan adds. “He-“

“I don’t care, Stan. I don’t care!” Eddie bawls, falling flat on his back. “You may want to leave cause I screamed at Bill, and I’m sure he’s on his way here. I am so done with everything right now. I can’t stand to talk to you two.” 

The room is silent, until Eddie hears the door open and close. 

That’s when he lets himself cry. 

Through his tears, he realizes that Richie only called him Eddie. Not Eds.


End file.
